


i'd rather be with you

by exprsslyfrbidden



Series: say you feel the way I do [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Don't worry it gets resolved, F/F, Fluff, I have SO Many headcanons about all this, also the angst lasted a lot longer than it should've whoops, intense gayness, pt. 2, when Kara hacks things she mutters "i'm in" to herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:20:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exprsslyfrbidden/pseuds/exprsslyfrbidden
Summary: yeah, yeah I'd rather be with you/say you want the same thing tooShe’d told Winn loving Lena felt like freefall; losing her felt very much the same.In which Kara flies across the world to kiss the girl she wants to kiss, hacking security cameras and punching people on the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thisis-control on tumblr:  
> "I need someone to do a two-part supercorp fic based off of Joshua Radin’s “What If You” and “I’d Rather Be With You,” with part one being wicked super angsty and from Lena’s pov and part two being the fluff recovery from Kara’s pov."
> 
> this took me forever and a day and it's not even done whoops

Kara is halfway across the Rocky Mountains when she realizes what she’s doing and comes to a dizzying, sharp halt midair.

 

Craggy, snow-dusted peaks and a lone coyote are the only witness to the collapse of a goddess. A wrenching sob echoes against the indifferent peaks and she folds in on herself, arms clenched around her torso like she’s trying to keep from falling apart. She presses a tight fist to her mouth to hold back the gasping terror leaving a vacuum in her lungs. Hot tears are whisked off on shallow, sharp winds.

 

Lena’s gone. She’s gone, she’s _gone_ and Kara doesn’t know _why._

— — —

_She wakes up to blinding sunlight shining in her eyes and a nagging feeling of disquiet. First a few pebbles of memory trickle into her head, followed by tumbling boulders of sensation and finally an avalanche of recollection. Last night. Last night, she had —_

 

_Lena. She jerks upright when her searching arms encounter nothing but space. A thin stream of fear slides down her spine as she jerks her glasses off to scan the rest of her apartment. Lena. No. No. Where is she? She can’t be gone. Kara needs to talk to her, needs to hear those words, needs to know that last night wasn’t some drunken dalliance, needs to reassure herself that Lena had meant it._

 

_Lena is nowhere in her apartment, or in the building, or in a two-block radius. Kara scrambles into her suit and is about to leap from her balcony when her frantic gaze catches on the note placed on the countertop._

 

_It’s addressed to her, and far too short, devoid of any explanation, for her liking. What does this mean? It sounds — and she doesn’t want to admit it — terrifyingly like a goodbye._

 

_Supergirl:_

_Please take care of Kara for me._

_Lena_

 

_Regret and guilt pool in her gut, blending into a nauseating combination that makes her stagger. She collapses onto the couch, note crinkled in her fist. She should have said no. Lena was drunk, had just been threatened by her mother again, was clearly emotional; why had Kara given in so easily? Wasn’t this exactly what she wanted to avoid?_

 

_She regrets not pulling away. Not asking what was wrong. She regrets letting those long-repressed, forbidden wants overwhelm logic and higher thought. She shouldn’t have let Lena kiss the reason from her mind so easily, like scattering a flock of flighty birds, baring her deepest desires to somebody so eager and willing._

 

 _It was a mistake, but it’s too late to admit that. It’s her fault that Lena’s gone, and now she has to find her again, apologize, explain that she loves Lena beyond the tangled meaning of a drunken one-night stand. She_ has _to._

 

_She’s not in her office when Supergirl zooms by. Kara Danvers rushes up to Jess’s desk instead, shirt haphazardly tucked in and hair thrown in a messy ponytail._

 

_It’s the first time she’s seen the reporter so disheveled, and it’s alarming. “May I help you?”_

 

_“Where’s Lena? I need to tell her — it’s all my fault, I just need to talk to her, explain everything—”_

 

_Jess looks at her sharply. “She’s on her way to a conference in Japan.” Maternal concern for her boss, so lonely at the top of the world, pushes the next few words into existence. “I swear, Kara Danvers, if you’ve done something to hurt her —”_

 

_The anguish blooming on Kara’s face is nowhere near reassuring. “I need to talk to her. When will she be back?” The pleading strain in her voice is unsettling._

 

_Jess sits straighter and delivers the information with an icy bite in her voice. “In two weeks. Shall I take a message for you?”_

 

_Kara thanks her distractedly and hurries out, leaving Jess uneasy behind her. She reaches for her phone and opens her conversation with Lena._

 

_Kara calls in sick, and Snapper doesn’t even complain because she sounds “like absolute death”. She returns to her apartment and turns the crumpled note over in her hands. Lena’s handwriting is messier than usual, like she’s hurrying the words out. Kara’s heart cramps with guilt at the thought of Lena scribbling the note down in the darkness of her apartment, rushing out, closing the door behind her and boarding that plane—_

 

_She rushes to the bathroom and dry-heaves into the toilet._

 

_Tears leave concentric ripples on the placid water and the seat cracks under her iron grip. She hasn’t felt this guilty since she broke Alex’s microscope in seventh grade. She’d tried to hide it in a burst of terror, but her eleven-year-old self had been so wracked with guilt that she’d thrown up after dinner. Alex used to tell her that she was just too good for her own sake, letting guilt destroy her nerves._

 

_But this time it’s her fault Lena’s gone. She must have thought — no, Kara has no clue what had been going through her mind. She just knows that she shouldn’t have let Lena take her shirt off, or her pants, or let her push Kara onto the bed. She should have said no, and asked what was wrong. There are so many things she should have, could have done._

 

_Next time — and there will be a next time, if Kara has anything to do with it — she’s going to think before she acts. Or at least try harder to think rationally; Lena’s very existence often leaves Kara stuttering and speechless, like she’s forgotten that she’s fluent in English. She wipes the tears from her cheeks. No more teenage imprudence, no more hormonal rashness._

— — —

With Herculean effort, she chokes down the tears and unfolds from her fetal position high above the mountains. Rational thought finally forces its way through her quagmire of volatile emotions.

 

She can’t just fly to Japan. Not while she’s practically falling apart at the seams, barely thinking straight. No, she needs to think this through. There’s got to be an explanation for this. What if she’s overthinking it? What if she’s reading all the signs wrong? If Lena wanted to talk to her, she wouldn’t have left. She wouldn’t have gone halfway across the _world._

 

Kara resists the urge — barely — to punch the mountainside. She needs another opinion, a fresh set of eyes.

 

She can’t call Alex. Her sister doesn’t think Lena’s trustworthy or friend-worthy, and Kara doesn’t think she can handle a lecture on the proven nature of Luthors right now. She turns back towards National City and the landscape begins to blur under her. Nebraska and Iowa flash by as she constructs a plan of action. She needs to calm down, collect her thoughts and analyze everything backwards.

 

Fields of mottled green and yellow flicker by and bizarrely, she’s reminded of elementary school. She’d memorized all fifty states, wanting to fit in, and discovered that few kids knew all fifty, much less their geographical location.

 

(It had confused her for the longest time. Did they not know how easily these things could be lost?)

 

Soon she’s zipping through the towers of National City and breezing into her apartment, phone in hand.

 

Winn picks up on the first ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

 

“Can you come over?” She hadn’t realized how torn up she sounded until now.

 

There’s no hesitation. “I’m on my way.”

 

She gives him enough time to get through the doorway before the dam breaks. “I slept with Lena,” she rushes out in a single fluid breath. “And she left and went to Japan and I don’t know what to do.”

 

Winn stares at her, taking in the mismatched buttons on her shirt that reveal the metallic blue suit underneath and her red-rimmed eyes. “Okay.” He takes a breath. “Start at the beginning.”

— — —

_Lena turns the key and it feels like Kara’s insides are dropping into a black hole._

 

_J’onn directs her to take care of the rocket and she does. She feels nauseated with the poison of betrayal, numb with shock. Lena had turned the key. What was it she had said?_

 

 _“I_ am _a Luthor.”_

 

_Each word felt like jagged spikes of Kryptonite in Kara’s chest, shattering hope she didn’t even she had. Lena can’t be doing this. This isn’t happening._

 

_But the rocket slips out of her numb fingers, the virus spiraling down like orange snow…_

 

_Kara’s last thought is of Lena and utter, agonizing heartbreak._

 

_Lillian’s words barely make an impact on the maelstrom of emotion swirling in her head. She’s going to be dead in mere seconds, why bother spending her last moments listening to a dramatic monologue?_

 

_Then Lena speaks, and Kara’s heart starts beating again._

 

_“And I called the police.”_

 

_For another cliff-hanging moment, Kara is torn between resuscitating relief and the absolute, total conviction that Lena’s lying. Hope clutches her chest, squeezing her ribcage tight. What right does Lena have, violently sling-shotting Kara’s emotions from one extreme to the other?_

 

_But Kara’s not dead, and red and blue lights are pulling in. Lena’s telling the truth._

 

_“We’re okay,” she says, wonderingly. Lillian’s words finally percolate into her brain. Lena had tricked them all, had rendered the virus inert. She had pretended to turn sides, only pretended to be willing to commit mass genocide. It was just good acting, all of it._

 

_The police are taking Lillian and Lena away and all Kara can do is stare after Lena’s retreating back. Half of her is aching to run after Lena and tackle her into a hug. Words bubble on the tip of her tongue: “Thank you”, “You did the right thing”, “I never doubted you”._

 

_The other half of her is wracked in pains of realization, because the very first words that form in her mouth are “I love you.”_

_— — —_

“That’s why you were acting so strange,” Winn exclaims. They’ve settled onto the couch, Kara curled around a pillow as she tells the story. His tone softens. “You really — love her?”

 

Kara glances at the crumpled note on the table and nods. “I do,” she murmurs. “She — she’s so strong, and — I don’t know how to explain it. She’s _good,_ despite everything around her that says the opposite. If I were in her shoes — I don’t think I could handle it. But she does, and still manages to be an amazing friend and a wonderful person.” A sliver of a smile curves on Kara’s lips. “Spending time with her reminds me of how unexplainable people can be.”

 

Winn gives her a keen look. “But you still avoided her for two weeks.”

 

Kara winces, clutching the pillow tighter to her chest. “I was scared,” she admits softly. Her fingers worry the fabric. “This was — _is_ still completely new for me. On Krypton, we didn’t do things out of love. I’ve never _felt_ this way about anybody.” A pause, as she sorts through her words. “It’s like — I want her to be happy, no matter what. And when I think about her, it’s just all —”  

 

She scrunches her face up, hands waving vaguely around in an effort to bring shape to her feelings. “It’s like….how I feel when I’m flying really high, and look down and everything’s tiny. Kind of like vertigo. Or like free falling.” A small smile flutters onto her face. “And she’s really, really, _really_ pretty.”

 

Winn nods, contemplative, as if he’s diagnosing a rare disease. “Those are the symptoms of love, for sure. I can understand how if it’s the first time you’ve ever felt it…” He shrugs. “I would be scared, too.”

 

Kara’s face collapses. “I should have gone to see her. But I was terrified that I was going to see her and then just — kiss her, or say something stupid, and then she was going to hate me.” Her tone becomes anguished. “I couldn’t take that chance, Winn. I’d rather have her as a friend than not have her in my life at all.”

 

“So what happened last night?” He needs to know in order to help Kara. He’s never seen her so dispirited, so torn up over a single person. And over Lena Luthor, no less! If it turns out Lena’s hurting Kara on purpose, Winn is going to have some _choice_ words for her.

 

“I was patrolling when I heard her voice. Lillian sent — there was a man pretending to mug her, and Lena said her mother had sent him.” She doesn’t mention her dread at hearing the man’s cold laugh, or hearing the panicky pulse of Lena’s heart. She doesn’t mention thinking she might never get to see Lena again, or the fact that she had hit the man far too hard. “She was drunk. She asked me to take her to Kara Danvers’ apartment, and I did.”

 

Kara had asked her if she would be okay, and Lena had replied, “ _Hopefully._ ” At the time, she had been too overcome by terror and concern at Lena’s current state to question the meaning of it. But now, thinking back, that should have been her first clue.

 

“When I opened the door, she kissed me.” Kara’s voice trembles, like the ripple of disturbed water. “I should have said no. She was drunk. But —”

 

Her voice cracks, fracturing along the same lines scarred in her heart. “It was what I’d been wishing could happen for the past two weeks. When I woke up….she was gone.” She turns the note over in her hands. “This is what she left.”

 

Winn takes his time reading and analyzing it, letting Kara regain her composure. “And now she’s in Japan?” he asks, confused.

 

“Jess said it was a business conference. I almost….I almost flew there, earlier.” She shakes her head ruefully. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. Do you think….what do you think?”

 

Winn studies the note, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay. So, let me go through the facts: Lena was drunk. She came here and kissed you. Did she say anything?”

 

Kara’s cheeks glow pink. “She said ‘I want you so bad’,” she recalls, biting her lip. The pulse of arousal at the memory makes her feel even guiltier and she shoves it down. “That’s it. I tried asking what was wrong but I just — it was like I forgot how to think, and then it was too late.” Winn’s hand covers her own reassuringly.

 

“Hey. We’ll figure this out. I’m sure it’s nothing but a misunderstanding.” He’s never considered himself to be great at this comforting thing, but the weak smile on Kara’s face is a step in the right direction. “Okay, and then when you woke up, she was gone and there was just this note. Are you sure she boarded her plane?”

 

Kara nods tiredly. “I checked the airport security feeds. She got on the plane.”

 

Winn can’t help but feel impressed. “Wait, you hacked the airport feeds? How?” She gives him a wry smile.

 

“I’ve been reading up on your coding languages. Some of it is very similar to what we had back home.” Kara rubs her eyes. “She wasn’t kidnapped or anything. She left of her own will.”

 

Winn crosses that off his mental list. “Okay. Let me think.”

 

This is like a flashback to freshman year Psych 101, trying to deduce motives from a scant few clues and actions. This time, he knows more, but it’s still incredibly difficult and nowhere near accurate.

 

“This is just speculation,” he begins, thinking aloud. “But from what I know, Lena isn’t the type of person to just — sleep with people, right? She has to have feelings for you, too. Or else she wouldn’t have come to you, especially if you’re already friends to begin with.” Kara watches him dissect the situation, the crinkle between her eyebrows deepening as she follows his logic.

 

“Let’s go back to when she got her mother arrested. Imagine —” He holds his hands up to demonstrate a whole new perspective. “You’re Lena Luthor and nobody trusts you. You’ve just showed everybody that you’re not a bad person, destroying your relationship with your mother in the process.” He shoots Kara an apologetic look. “Then, your friend, Kara Danvers, disappears off the face of the earth.”

 

Kara sighs and falls back onto the couch, blinking back tears. Not just Lena’s friend; her _only_ friend in National City. “She must’ve thought I didn’t trust her. Or I wasn’t her friend anymore.”

 

Winn grimaces. “Unfortunately, yeah. That’s probably what she thought. So the thought is, why did she come to you anyways? To me, that’s a clear indicator that she has feelings for you too. The fact that she was drunk is both supporting evidence and opposing evidence, but I’ll get to that later. But nobody is hurt by their friend and then sleeps with them. Not unless non-platonic feelings are involved.”

 

Kara nods, feeling that familiar determination flicker to life again. When Winn explains it, everything fits into neat blocks of meaning. It makes sense. She feels like the earth is solid beneath her once more. “So she likes me back.” The sentence sends a tingle of euphoria through her sternum and she has to clamp her mouth shut to contain the grin. “What were you talking about, with her being drunk?”

 

“You’ve been drunk before, right?”

 

Kara nods, face scrunching up. “Hangovers are not fun.”

 

Winn agrees knowingly. “Yeah. Several things can happen when you’re drunk, though. You lose your inhibitions and do one of two things: one, you do what you’ve been thinking about, wishing for, for a long time.” He gestures to Kara. “Or two, you do something you don’t mean because you don’t know better. It throws off the entire equation.”

 

Kara exhales a long, heavy sigh, burying her face in the pillow. “So what do I do?” she asks, frustration clear despite her muffled voice. “Either she likes me or doesn’t like me, I hurt her feelings so she thinks I don’t like her, she’s in _Japan_ — and I can’t fly there because she doesn’t know I’m Supergirl!”

 

Winn considers it for a second. “Well….when you put it like that…” He snaps his fingers and Kara jerks her head up to look at him, hoping for an “Eureka!” moment. “You think she keeps a diary? That would clear things right up.”

 

Kara frowns at him. His idea of what girls do with their emotions is slightly too adolescent. “I’m not going to read her diary,” she retorts. “Plus, I don’t think she would keep one. It’s too dangerous for somebody like her.” The idea of Lena going to her desk to write _Dear Diary…_ in gel pen is also an image too comical for the current mood.

 

Winn deflates. “I don’t know, then. Short of actually going to talk to her, I don’t know what else you can do. Have you texted her?”

 

Kara shows him her phone. “None of them are delivering. I would ask Jess, but I’m pretty sure she thinks I broke Lena’s heart and won’t talk to me.” She winces at the thought. “Winn, I can’t wait two weeks for her to come back. What am I going to do?”

 

Winn struggles to find an answer. Kara’s always been there for him through thick and thin. He’ll be damned if he can’t do the same for her. “What about a business trip?” he asks slowly, eyes narrowed. “Snapper knows you have an insider track with Lena. And this conference, it’s for L Corp, right? That’s a possible angle. I don’t think any other outlets know about this.” His voice grows more confident as the idea takes root.

 

Kara sits straighter. Normally, she would toss such an idea out the window. These are not normal times, though. “Would he agree to it? I don’t...I don’t know if that’s feasible.” She messes with the fringe of the pillow in her lap, wishing she had a block of concrete or something solid to hit.

 

Winn’s eyes blaze with purpose. “Don’t worry. If James and I argue on your behalf, we can get support. And I know a couple of other people in the office will support the idea. He won’t be able to say no to his marketing advisor.”

 

Kara tackles him into an almost bone-crushing hug. “Thank you so much,” she breathes. For the first time since waking up to a cold bed, she has a solid plan of action. The next step? Get to Japan.

— — —

Kara waves goodbye to Winn and descends into the eerily natal ramp that connects the airplane to the airport like a metal umbilical cord. Her footsteps are muffled on the dull carpet and the airplane itself smells of sweat and discomfort. She finds it hard to wrangle her features away from expressing the distaste that settles into her bones. It’s unnatural, being locked up in a aluminum box and strapped into pieces of metal and cotton. No wonder people are terrified of flying. There’s practically zero control.

 

She settles into the creaking seat and looks out across the tarmac. Just three days ago, Lena did the same, she muses. What’s Lena doing now? Attending a meeting, most likely. Kara checks her phone, hoping that somehow her enhanced senses have somehow missed the buzz of a text notification. Her shoulders slump. Nothing. Her messages still aren’t delivering and Jess is closed-mouth on anything regarding her boss.

 

Kara hasn’t slept well in the past two nights. Every time she lies down she’s reminded of Lena’s body heat next to her….and then the terrifying sensation of her stomach dropping into the center of the earth when she had disappeared. She’d told Winn loving Lena felt like freefall; losing her felt very much the same.

 

(no, not losing her; she hasn’t lost Lena yet. Not yet, not yet)

 

Kara’s been writing drafts of what she wants to tell Lena in her head. It’s not a speech, by any means; Kara believes in letting the spontaneity of the moment carry her words. But she wants to make sure she covers every point. She needs to make sure Lena knows exactly _how_ much Kara loves her back, knows why she stayed away, knows what she’s willing to do to get her back. She needs structure and format, at least a bare-bones skeleton, or else she might forget something important or do something rash. Like….kiss Lena before they even talk. That’s ranking high on the list of Most Likely Reckless Things Kara Might Do and she doesn’t want to let her emotions act before they can talk. Again.

 

Niggling doubt resurfaces again, leaving ripples of uncertainty on the pool of her thoughts. She had talked to Winn and James about it earlier, right before Snapper had relented in the face of an onslaught of arguments for Kara’s trip to Japan.

— — —

_“What if….what if this is a mistake?” Kara suggests uncertainly. “What if she…Winn, you said it could’ve just been the alcohol talking, right?” They’re regrouping in the break room, refueling with coffee and donuts. A precipitant burst of doubt accompanies her first sip of lukewarm coffee. “I’m not sure if you guys should keep asking Snapper. Maybe it’s just better for me to wait, give her some time?”_

 

_James meets her eyes. Kind understanding softens his gaze. “Kara. When you love something, you fight for it. No matter how scared you are.”_

 

_Dang, she hates how transparent she is under his eyes. Yes, she’s afraid. She’s never been this particular mix of dread and hope before, never found her emotional state so tied and entrenched within this one person. “What if she made a mistake? What if I go all the way to Japan and she —” Kara doesn’t want to voice her worst thoughts. They occupy half her waking moments, the other half spent in blissful daydreams of the ways it could go right. The ways it could go wrong are infinitely more agonizing._

 

_She imagines:_

_Lena laughs at her._

_Lena says, “It didn’t mean anything.”_

_Lena says, “Go back to National City.”_

_Lena says, “I never loved you.”_

 

_James embraces her in a solid hug. She buries her face in his chest and sinks into his reassuring warmth for several long heartbeats. “She loves you,” he murmurs, words rumbling in Kara’s ears. She looks up at him, and his smile is etched with the sad wisdom of somebody with personal experience. “How could she not?”_

— — —

“First time flying?”

 

Kara jumps a little, and the kindly businessman beside her chuckles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You just look a little terrified.”

 

She looks down. Her knuckles are white. She doesn’t let go of the armrest because there are most definitely indents of her fingers in the plastic. “Oh, um, no, not really. I fly a lot, actually.” He raises his eyebrows, gently incredulous. “I’m a pilot,” her mouth says. Oh, Rao. “I’m just, uh, not used to being a passenger. It’s….different, when you’re in control.”

 

He engages her in some more friendly conversation, but she’s not really paying attention. Kara’s always flown alone, been in control of her life. She’s the pilot, even when emotions are involved. She was a teenager; she knows how to deal with emotional storms and turbulence.

 

But… _Lena_. She’s a different storm, a different thing altogether. When Lena’s involved, Kara’s no longer the pilot. It’s like her instruments have all gone haywire and she’s losing altitude fast in the midst of a hurricane, plummeting to an uncertain fate.

 

The takeoff is shaky and Kara finds it hard to believe people trust airplanes to not fall apart midair. She can hear bolts rattling and metal creaking in the spaces around her. The engine drones at a pitch annoyingly dissonant from the buzz of machinery, giving her the beginnings of a migraine. All the people around her look incredibly calm. How can they stand it? Kara needs to talk to Alex about flying. These things are _dangerous._

 

As she watches, the ground glides away from them. Her ears pop. Abruptly, air catches beneath the plane and the ride smooths out. Kara watches as National City, with its bustling spires of metal and shining chrome, shrinks into a blur.

 

Fifteen hours later and she’s stumbling into the clean, well-lit Tokyo airport. Her bones ache. Her muscles are stiff. Her mouth tastes disgusting, and her eyes are gritty. Her neck feels uncomfortable no matter the angle she cricks it at, and a low, primal throb at the base of her skull promises a pulsing headache to come. Why do people fly? This is  _torture_.

 

She drags her suitcase into the bathroom and tries to make herself feel more like a person. The toilet looks intimidatingly modern, with a whole pad of buttons with questionable pictures next to them. Everything is white and sleek and everywhere she looks are bright advertisements with ladies with perfect skin and men in immaculate suits. She feels like she’s stepped into a different future.

 

She looks like crap. She stares at her reflection until her eyes blur. How is going to meet Lena like this? Kara looks like she’s been sleep-deprived for a week. She feels frail, too, like she hasn’t spent enough time in the sun. Probably because she’s been cooped up in a metal box for the past fifteen hours.

 

Next time, she’s flying herself.

 

She splurges on a cab to the hotel. As the driver winds through honking cars and weaving motorcycles, she stares out the window in awe. Neon lights proliferate and people flow on the sidewalks like fish through oil. There seems to be a frenetic heartbeat here, a visceral pulse that National City doesn’t have. The thought reminds her of her purpose and she squints, trying to discern Lena’s heartbeat from the millions of other people around her. After less than a minute she gives up, massaging her temples. There are too many sounds, too many people; it just worsens her headache.

 

The driver drops her off at the Hilton, where Lena’s also staying. She barely notices the opulent lobby or the other people there; she checks in and heads straight up to her room. Exhaustion mashed with the desperate knowledge that Lena is close by somewhere is aggravating her migraine. Rao, this was a terrible idea and humans are insane. Flying fifteen hours straight is doing nothing for her higher brain functions. How is she going to actually do her job, much less talk to Lena?

 

Her room is modernist, she gathers from the bare glimpse she gets before toppling onto the starched sheets. She’ll get to the press conference, find Lena, talk to her and get everything sorted out…

 

….after she takes a quick nap.

 

She wakes up and stares at the night lights outside her window. It looks like psychedelic capitalist vomit, neon signs strobing against the black sky and Japanese characters flashing enticingly. She stares at a picture of sushi for a long time, letting her thoughts drift, until her eyes catch on the LED clock right above it.

 

_2:37 AM._

 

She jerks and falls off the bed. “ _Fudge_ ,” she curses, stumbling into the bathroom. She’d slept through the press conference _and_ the dinner. A quick scan of the building tells her that Lena’s not in her room. Where would she _be_ at two in the morning? Kara grimaces at herself in the mirror. Okay, plan derailed. She was supposed to go to the press conference and find Lena afterwards to explain, but clearly that’s out of the question. She takes a deep breath.

 

New plan. Shower, get dressed, find Lena. Kara can’t think of a good reason why Lena’s out of her room at two in the morning, especially without her bodyguards, and pangs of worry resound in her chest. She trips out of her clothes and into the shower. Thank Rao for super speed; how do humans get anything done in time?

 

(she’d been reassured to learn that Lena had been assigned bodyguards; she’s no longer as reassured, given the fact that Lena’s gone and her bodyguards are snoring away peacefully)

 

Five minutes later she’s dressed and typing on her laptop. She can’t see Lena from where she is, but the security cameras can give her an idea of where to look. She’s been learning how to work human coding systems ever since she’d discovered MS Paint on Alex’s old computer and been horrified at the rudimentary application, devouring some of the Danvers’ books on basic coding to write her own drawing program.

 

She isn’t as skilled a hacker as a programmer, but Winn’s been teaching her a few tips and tricks that prove useful when applied to the scant security of the hotel’s network. She’s onto the hotel’s closed circuit system in minutes, flicking through the last few hours of footage.

 

Her first glimpse of Lena is on the stairs. She’s dressed in a dark coat, hair down. The grainy feed doesn’t give Kara nearly as much detail as she would like, but it fosters a burst of relief anyways. Lena’s here, or was here. Kara clicks to the next camera and watches Lena exit the stairwell, heading through the lobby and out into the street. She doesn’t get into a car, just keeps walking until she’s out of sight.

 

Kara clicks back through, trying to see if she’d come back at any point. No sign of her. She sighs and rubs her eyes, closing her laptop.

 

Okay, what would Nancy Drew do?

 

She can’t use her enhanced senses here. There are too many other factors — the smell of the night markets and gasoline; the sounds of traffic and music even at this hour; haphazardly built lead walls thrown up in random places — that prevent her from properly tracking Lena. She’s not a bloodhound. But if Lena brought her phone….

 

It’s DEO technology, this phone tracking operation. It goes beyond location and taps into the microphone, accelerometer, and temperature sensors to compile as much information as possible, making it useful when they’re dealing with shapeshifters or other aliens. Right now, though, all she wants to know is where Lena is.

 

She gets a location — Inokashira Park — before some heavy-hitting code locks her out. She’s not surprised; when you’re Lena Luthor, you take precautions.

 

Okay. What’s the plan again? Find Lena. Talk to her. Good, that’ll have to do.

 

(If she stops moving, stops acting and dealing with the obstacles in her way, she might freeze up from the terror of it all)

 

Downstairs, out the lobby, down the street. She’s memorized the way to the park already, and moves through the sparsely populated streets faster than she should. Kara wants to fly — she would be there in just seconds — but there’s no way she can explain why Supergirl is in Tokyo. So she fast-walks across oil-slick asphalt, across faded paint crosswalks. She rehearses her speech, repeating the words that matter. _I love you, why did you leave? I’m sorry I hurt you._  

 

She reaches the park.

 

At two in the morning, the lights are dim and cast a gauze-like glow over the trees. The paths are devoid of people, the dark spaces under the trees warm and hollow. She scans the park and catches sight of Lena by the pond, a dark shape peering over the railing of the bridge. Kara releases the air tight in her lungs. Thank Rao, she’s okay.

 

She’s almost running now. The natural streetlights are growing brighter, illuminating her path. The ache in her ribcage intensifies as she draws closer, just as a magnet yearns and pulls towards its polar twin.

 

(Lena’s going to say her name, the hard exhale and the soft, open vowels, and then nothing will hurt anymore)

 

She steps on the bridge, footsteps deliberately audible. Lena doesn’t turn around. She’s breathing strangely, like the gasps of an injured animal. Trying not to cry, Kara realizes.

 

“Lena,” she murmurs.

 

Time draws upwards and envelops them in a column of air. There’s nothing but the two of them, the gentle lapping swish of the water below, the warm breeze caressing their skin. Lena stops breathing. She turns, in jerky increments, a rusty movement. Her eyes are red-rimmed, jade swimming with sorrow and disbelief, voice a whisper.

 

“Kara?”

 

All those formulated words flood her throat and her mouth moves. “I love you,” she says, simply. The few feet in between them gapes like eons of space and she moves closer, tugged into Lena’s orbit again.

 

All hell breaks loose.

 

She hears it before she sees it: the dull click of safeties being switched off, the soft clink of bullets in a magazine. Five men in all black, armed to the teeth. Headed straight for them.

 

“Get down,” Kara shouts, and she’s moving, covering Lena. Silenced pistols pop.

 

“Inagawa-kai,” Lena tell her, voice steady. Her body burns like an ember, one hand grasping for Kara’s. Their fingers tangle, interlocking, and Kara shivers. “Yakuza, gang members who think Lex wronged them. They’re out for revenge.” How come Lena can talk about these things so calmly, as if they’re not happening to them _right now_?

 

“Stay here,” Kara mutters, mind racing. How can she get out of these clothes without Lena seeing? Supergirl has no reason to be here. There’s —

 

There’s no time. Footsteps sound on the wooden bridge, from both sides. “Take this.” Kara thrusts her glasses into Lena’s hands.

 

She takes the first two men out with a single right hook, the bodies falling bonelessly to the ground. The third reacts quickly, firing several shots. The bullets thud as they hit Kara’s chest, useless. At the sight of no blood, he turns to run. Kara sweeps her leg out and jerks his feet out from beneath him. His chin hits the ground, hard.

 

It’s been three seconds.

 

Lena’s voice, spiking high at the end with terror. “ _Kara!_ ”

 

She spins and catches the bullet, cape swirling at her feet. The metal is warm in her fist. The men on the other side stare, black ski masks decorated with spiky red lines. All she can see of their faces is twin circles of off-white, an expanding dot of inky fear in the middle. “ _Run!_ ” one of them shouts in Japanese.

 

Kara doesn’t let them.

 

Anger seems to fly from her fingertips, disjointed from actual sensation but there nonetheless. It reaches out and chokes the air from one of the men, yanks the gun from the other. She doesn’t feel it, but her hands act of their own accord, clenching hard — and then she hears Lena’s voice, gentle, calming. Shaky.

 

“Kara, let him go.” Her fingers crack and release their grip around his neck. He crumples, dark marks flowering on his skin. Kara turns, sudden, and Lena flinches. Kara’s glasses are clutched in her hands.

 

“Are you okay?” Kara reaches out and then jerks back, painful hesitance restraining her. “You’re not hurt?”

 

“I’m fine,” Lena murmurs. She blinks, gaze refocusing on Kara. On the starburst bullet holes in her shirt, the hints of red and blue underneath. “Just a bit shocked.” It’s then that Kara notices how pale Lena is, paler than the fading moon in the hazy sky.

 

“...Lena?” Kara panics a little, offers the only thing she can think of. “Do you want me to leav-”

 

“No!” They both give a start. Lena looks startled at her own vehemence. “No,” she repeats, quieter. “Just…” She searches for words, blinking fast. “Give me a moment.”

 

“Okay,” Kara murmurs. Lena needs space, at least, some time to process things, because Rao knows Kara needs a moment to just understand what’s going on —

 

Lena reaches out, grabs her hand, and tugs her across the bridge. Kara follows on obedient feet, silent.

 

A faint, indistinct glow is suffusing the lower half of the horizon, heralding the imminent sunrise with a palette of pastel oranges and purples. The tops of the trees are dusted with lavender and periwinkle blue, the pond shimmering softly in the light. Lena leads them across the bridge. They step over the unconscious men, and go down the dim path. It winds further into the park, but Kara’s not paying a lot of attention to her surroundings.

 

Lena’s hand is warm, faintly dry. Her grip is sure on Kara’s hand, fingers seeking the spaces between Kara’s own. Again, their hands interlock, just as a long-lost key slides smoothly into a long-sealed lock without obstacle. Kara wonders what this means. Forgiveness? How, when she hasn’t explained anything?

 

Lena squeezes her hand, lightly. A reassurance, and a silent promise.

 

They stop at a veranda overlooking the pond. Lena sits down on the steps, and Kara does the same. The air around them is devoid of their sound, filled only the rush of wind through the leaves and faint honks of traffic from a distance. Lena doesn’t let go of her hand.

 

Time ticks by, until the bustle of city life threatens to pop their bubble of tranquility. It’s then that Lena speaks.

 

“Did you mean it?”

 

Kara doesn’t even have to ask what she’s referring to because that very moment has been replaying in her head the entire time. “Yes,” she responds, without missing a beat. “I love you, Lena. And I’m so, so sorry if I hurt you. Those two weeks..” Her ribcage clenches at the thought of Lena waiting for her to visit, telling Jess to let her up, leaving her lunch schedule open just in case…. “I was—”

 

“Hold on,” Lena mutters. She shifts until she’s facing Kara, unfolding her glasses. Lena slides them on and settles them on the bridge of her nose, fingers lingering at the side of Kara’s face.

 

Kara tries — she really does, and it’s a valiant effort — to keep her eyes on Lena’s, but gradually, inescapably, unavoidably, her gaze flicks down to Lena’s mouth. She looks up again, feeling guilty and juvenile, and finds Lena’s gaze doing very much the same thing. Kara leans in the slightest bit.

 

It’s not even a conscious choice. Ever since Lena Luthor’s walked into her life, it’s like Kara’s discovered a new law of physics. Instead of “an object in motion tends to stay in motion”, it’s “when Lena’s in sight, Kara moves towards her”. Inevitability, personified.

 

Lena’s mouth falls open the slightest, eyes flicking down again. Kara hears her heart skip like a stone. She tilts her head to the right, just a few degrees. The glasses slip down her nose.

 

“So you’re Supergirl,” Lena speaks, looking away sharply.

 

Kara jerks back, clenching her hands together to keep them from doing imprudent things. “Yeah,” she offers, lamely. Excuses and apologies bubble to the surface. She hadn’t planned on this, and the weight of revealing her true identity has just begun to settle on her. “I wanted to tell you before, but—”

 

“No, I understand.” Lena looks up, into the sky. The lights of the stirring city outline her profile in sharp neon. “I’m a Luthor. And you can’t just go around telling every other person who you really are.”

 

Kara shakes her head. “It’s not because you’re a Luthor. I should have told you. And I’m sorry, _really_ , for not coming to see you after the incident with Medusa.” She looks down at her hands. “I was scared,” she admits quietly. “Because, when you turned that key….I thought I’d lost you. Before I hadn’t — that’s the moment, when I realized. And I couldn’t go see you as Kara Danvers and not do something stupid, or just pretend to be friends, when there was so much more—” She takes a breath, trying to corral her thoughts into something logical. “I know I hurt you.” Her smile is watery, sad. “Can you forgive me?”

 

Lena lets out a light puff of amusement. Before Kara can panic, she smiles. “Kara, ever since you walked into my office with Clark Kent — Superman, I’m guessing, I see the resemblance now — you’ve believed in me. I don’t think you know how good you’ve been to me, considering my last name. You —” She laughs again, shaking her head. “I forgave you as soon as you said my name, earlier. Which might turn out to be a problem. How much I love you.”

 

Kara’s heart takes a little rollercoaster ride in her ribcage. Lena just — did she just — she said that? “You — really?” A lump in her chest she hadn't even realized was there dissolves, and all of a sudden she's breathing oxygen for the first time in her life. Lena loves her back. It's so.... _simple,_ when things are laid out like that. Kara loves Lena, and Lena loves her back. It's a mathematical equation, balanced and elegant. Logical. Natural.

 

"I do," Lena murmurs. "So much it scares me."

 

Kara squeezes Lena's hand. She forces her voice into a tone that’s gentle, hopefully not accusing or guilt-tripping. “Why did you — and I’m not blaming you in any way, I just want to know, because it was terrifying and I realized that I shouldn’t have let you sleep with me while you were drunk —” Kara takes a breath and Lena looks at her expectantly. Oh, she hasn’t actually asked the question yet. “Why did you leave?”

 

Lena’s shoulders sag, and her grip tightens on Kara’s hand. “I didn’t think you felt the same,” she tells the rising sun. “I didn’t want to deal with you breaking my heart the next morning, so I went ahead and did it myself.” She laughs wryly. “And I had this business conference.” A thought strikes her and she cocks her head at Kara. “Speaking of. How did you get here?” She squints, nose scrunching. “Did you… fly _yourself_ _?_ ”

 

Kara considers telling her that she’d come close to doing exactly that. “I wish I had,” she sighs. “Fifteen hours on a plane was torture.” She glances over, quickly. Despite the very-real warmth of Lena’s hand in her own and the steady heartbeat beside her, Kara still can’t quite believe this isn’t a dream. She’s in a park, in Japan, holding hands with Lena Luthor. Who wouldn’t doubt themselves? “Winn and James helped me convince Snapper to come to cover your conference. He said if I didn’t do my best work, he’d fire me.” She laughs, giddy. “I honestly couldn’t care about work right now.” To say she feels lighter than she has all week is an understatement. This is like the first time she learned how to fly, the ground receding and the people growing tiny. Vertigo, weightlessness.

 

Like she’s freefalling.

 

“You’re Supergirl,” Lena repeats, a grin growing in her voice. “Don’t tell me — that time, at the gala —”

  
An flush of indignant color rises to Kara’s cheeks. “What?” she asks, half defensive, half amused at her own expense. “I thought I pulled that off pretty well.”

 

Lena catches her gaze, laughing. “I have never heard anybody use ‘golly!’ in real life before,” she deadpans, and Kara gives in to the amusement playing at the corners of her lips.

 

“Maybe I just happen to be a housewife from the 1850s,” Kara retorts, grinning. “That’s my true identity. I actually foil criminals with my butter churn.”

 

Lena laughs and leans into Kara, squeezing her hand tight. “You’re really here,” she wonders. “I can’t believe it.”

 

Kara agrees silently, arm wrapping around Lena’s waist reactively. A groan reaches her ears from across the pond and she stills. The men are beginning to stir. “We should head back,” she murmurs into Lena’s hair. “Your gang members are waking up.”

 

Lena huffs, but lets Kara pull her to her feet. “My gang members indeed.” Her hands stay firmly interlocked with Kara’s. The three holes in Kara’s shirt draw her attention and she chuckles, reaching out to feel the the smooth mesh of Kara’s suit through the holes. “You should cover that up,” she murmurs.

 

Kara’s face is almost as red as the blaring neon signs above the city streets. She doesn’t know if Lena’s aware of what she’s doing or if it’s on purpose, but the feeling of Lena’s fingertips poking right below her collarbones is _dangerous._ “Can I use your jacket?” she asks, to cover the tremor in her voice.

 

Lena retracts her hand (thank Rao) and slips out of her jacket. Kara buttons it to cover the bullet holes, and extends her hand again. Lena takes it.

 

Together, they walk out of the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been rewatching Person of Interest, can you tell? I bet you Kara would be a whiz at programming, though; she's brilliant and it's also a headcanon that she can learn a language like *that*. Also, props if you can find my not-so-subtle reference to my other fic at the end XD
> 
> more things will be resolved in ch. 2! Just thought I'd give you guys half of it while I work out my life and finish writing. 
> 
> shoot every time I write one of these notes I have enough to fill a whole page cuz there's so much I want to tell you guys. Come scream about these two dorks with me on tumblr @feveredreams pls and thank u


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update??? what???? Thank Irish potato Katie McGrath for that phenomenal interview b/c it finally inspired me to finish this. It was /delicious/.

Kara is an epiphany.

 

Lena knows what love is supposed to be like. It’s butterflies in the stomach, warmth in the chest, obsession in the head. She read enough trashy romance novels as a teenager to understand the basic vernacular associated with Love. It’s a thing you don’t notice until it’s too late, a thing that creeps up on you and surprises even the most stoic, a thing that fits nicely into the borders of “I love you and you love me, and everything is okay”. Love starts from subtle glances and grows, in leaps and bounds, into lust and then affection and then you get down on one knee and life is peachy. 

 

As it turns out, Lena knows nothing about love. 

 

Kara whirls into her life and rearranges everything. She changes butterflies to life-threatening pterodactyls. She turns warmth to a violent firestorm, throws emotions on Lena like tsunami waves and rips gaping holes in Lena’s life that only she can fill. It only takes a single visit — a what, four-line conversation? — to rend Lena’s life into unrecognizable pieces. Kara Danvers, who’s not a real reporter, stammers and smiles and Lena goes home and throws out her trashy romance novels because she now can write a better one. 

 

She doesn’t know anything about love because until Kara disappears, she thinks it’s just a crush. She doesn’t know anything about love because she gave up on it, running halfway across the world to flee from almost certain heartbreak. And now? She’s walking down the streets of Tokyo with Kara’s hand in her own. She might as well rewrite her entire idea of how life works. 

 

“You’re quiet,” Kara notes. Her own wide grin is mirrored on Lena’s face. “Whatcha thinking about?”

 

“You,” she admits easily. “Us. How all of this is happening.” They drop their hands for a bit to walk through the hotel lobby, missing each other immediately. They bump shoulders walking into the elevator. Lena laughs, giddy, and that in turn nudges Kara into giggles. It must look quite strange, she thinks, amused. The CEO of L Corp and Kara Danvers, giggling like schoolgirls. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” 

 

Kara’s fond smile sparks warmth in Lena’s chest. “I can’t believe it either. My room or yours?” Her hand hovers over the elevator buttons. 

 

“Yours, please.” She grins foolishly down at their intertwined hands. “How did you find me in the park?” 

 

“The DEO’s been using some phone tracking technology recently,” Kara explains. “I used it to find your phone, but it only worked for a second before your encryption shut me down.” 

 

Lena nods, understanding blooming across her face. “Ah. I thought it was a glitch in the code when I got the notification. Time to upgrade my security.” Her eyes twinkle. “You know how to hack things?” 

 

Kara shrugs bashfully. “A little bit. I’m a better programmer.” 

 

“You’re full of surprises, Kara Danvers,” Lena mutters affectionately. She feels drunk — intoxicated on joy and giddiness, lightheaded with delight — like she’s tipsy on champagne and the bubbles are fizzing in her head. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she murmurs, hands outlining Kara’s arm, tracing the line of her shoulder. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming? Pinch me.” 

 

Kara’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “I can do you one better,” she suggests, shifting closer. Her breath ghosts across Lena’s cheeks, eyes flicking down to her mouth. Her voice is a bare whisper. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

 

God, Lena’s never wanted anything more. “ _ Yes,” _ she breathes. “That’s very okay.” 

 

Kara inches forward. Her hand cups Lena’s cheek, eyelashes fluttering, and Lena leans in further. Their lips brush — just a brief touch, a hint of contact — and Lena chases the sensation, pressing her mouth firmly to Kara’s. Somebody gasps. It’s a slow kiss, chaste, close-mouthed, but compared to their first kiss, it’s heavenly. There’s no barely withheld anguish here, no desperation borne of the inevitability of heartbreak. Instead there’s tenderness, love — a fairytale kiss, she thinks dizzily — and time falls away. 

 

Vaguely, something dings in the background. Kara sighs. Lena follows her mouth, giving up the chase with great reluctance.

 

“We’re here,” Kara mutters. Unwillingly, they pull away from each other and exit the elevator. Lena’s lightheaded, and clutches Kara’s hand like a lifeline. Kara unlocks her door, ushering Lena inside. “My room isn’t as nice as yours, but, well.” Kara shrugs, looking awkward. “You’re the most important person here, probably.” Lena wants to kiss her again. 

 

“ _ You’re _ the most important person here,” she retorts, unthinkingly. 

 

Kara’s face flushes, and Lena realizes what she’s said. “You’re cute,” Kara blurts. Her face turns even redder. 

 

“You’re cuter.” 

 

They stare at each other, caught up in giddy affection, until Kara remembers where they are and what time it is. “Oh! Here’s your jacket back.” She tugs it off and hands it back. Lena tries not to look at the bullet holes in her shirt. She tries not to remember the all-consuming terror of seeing Kara get  _ shot  _ three times without knowing she was Supergirl. It’s over now, not real. Kara’s here, alive. “You should get some sleep,” Kara suggests. “You have meetings tomorrow, right? It’s almost five.” 

 

Lena cringes at the thought. “My first meeting is at nine, actually, but sleep sounds nice.” A realization: there’s only one bed. All of a sudden, all those imagined sensations of cuddling with Kara, once confined to pure fantasy, are possible. All- _ too _ -possible. 

 

“I’m afraid I don’t have any extra clothes,” Kara mutters, rifling through her suitcase. “I can go down and get some from your room —” 

 

She pauses, glasses sliding down her nose. The thousand-yard stare on her face is disconcerting. It takes Lena a good few moments before she realizes Kara’s using her x-ray vision. “What is it?” she asks, hesitant. If something can stop Kara in the middle of a sentence, it’s probably nothing good. 

 

“There are people in your room. Visitors of the murderous kind.” Kara scowls, standing. Lena stills. 

 

“My laptop’s in there,” she mutters, forehead creased. “With the plans for some very sensitive information.” Kara glances sharply at her. “L Corp is developing a prototype nuclear fusion reactor with the companies in Japan, so we can get in on the renewable energy market. Obviously, the yakuza should not get their hands on a nuclear reactor blueprint.” 

 

Kara’s at the door in a blink. “I’ll be back—” 

 

“I’m not staying,” Lena declares, swiftly following. Kara makes to argue. “It’s safer if I stay with you.” 

 

Kara doesn’t bother trying to contest the issue. “Stay close,” she orders. Her voice thickens. “I’m not losing you.” Lena nods tightly. 

 

They ascend two flights of stairs, waiting in the stairwell as Kara scans the entire floor twice. “Your bodyguards are unconscious,” she mutters. “There are three men in your room. One in the room next to yours. I’m going for him first.” 

 

Something crackles beside her and she jumps; Lena waves the Taser, half-grim, half-excited smile on her face. “I’ve got your back.”

 

Kara stares at her. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

A affectionate, annoyed sigh. “Okay. Stay right here and I’ll take out the guy watching the cameras. Then I’ll come back to get you. It’ll be just a second.” Lena grabs her arm. Kara stares at her in surprise. “Lena —” 

 

Lena plants a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she confesses. Kara blinks, dazed, a dopy smile growing on her mouth. “Go,” Lena reminds gently, mirroring her soft smile. 

 

Kara grins. “Right.” She’s gone in a blur. Lena holds her breath and waits. Three seconds. Five seconds. Seven seconds — “He’s taken care of.” Kara takes off her glasses and hands them to Lena. “When we get into your room, I want you to stay outside, got it? I can handle the men.” Her eyes flick down to Lena’s mouth more than once. The attention stokes the roaring bonfire of affection in Lena’s chest.  

 

“Got it.” 

 

They creep down the hallway. Kara bashes the door in and it’s over in a few seconds — she knocks a guy out with a swift punch, another trips over his fallen comrade and gets a knee to the face, and then the third tries to run and runs straight into Lena’s Taser. Kara’s not even breathing hard. “Nice job,” she remarks, a strange expression on her face. 

 

Lena narrows her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

 

Kara shakes her head, a wry smile curving across her lips. “It’s nothing. Just…” She looks up at Lena from beneath hooded eyelids. “It’s hot when you’re all intense, Tasering people.” 

 

Lena bites her lip to keep her grin from splitting her face in half. “So romantic,” she teases, gathering her laptop and suitcase. “Is it...electrifying?” She wiggles her eyebrows. 

 

Kara groans, facepalming. “Just get your stuff,” she grumbles, a smile slipping on her face despite her best efforts. “I don’t want to hear any more of your terrible puns.” 

 

“Oh, but I come up with them lightning fast,” Lena jokes, picking up her suitcase and slinging her laptop bag across her shoulder. Kara closes the door behind them, rolling her eyes. “Are you shocked at how good I am at this?” 

 

“Shut up,” Kara mumbles, and then presses a smiling kiss to her lips. Lena hums, dropping the handle of her suitcase to tangle her fingers in golden locks. Time slips away from them, like unseen grains of sand trickling away. 

 

Kara only pulls away because the men are starting to recover. “The men are starting to wake up,” she murmurs. “Is this going to become a habit?” Her hand slips into Lena’s as they return to the stairwell. “Constantly being interrupted by people trying to kill you?” 

 

Lena sighs, reluctantly letting Kara carry her suitcase. “I certainly hope not. I wouldn’t want unconscious men to interrupt us when we’re doing things other than talking.” 

 

Kara gives her a look, eyes narrowed. “Do I want to know what you’re suggesting?” 

 

Lena grins, and Kara’s never seen her so happy. It fills her with a relieved warmth, a sort of second hand happiness just because Lena’s happy. “Probably, since you’ll enjoy it.” She smirks and Kara’s heart does a little tap dance. 

 

“Eating?” she asks, playing innocent. Lena squints at her, and Kara has to fight to keep the smile from her face. “What? I love food. We won’t be talking then.” 

 

“Kara, darling.” Lena leans up to leave a quick kiss on her cheek, whispering in her ear, “It won’t be food we’ll be eating.” 

 

Kara makes a choking noise that is incredibly ungraceful. At least Lena’s blushing a little, too. “Rao, Lena,” she manages, holding the door open as they exit the stairwell. “Warn a girl next time.” 

 

The adorable red tint in Lena’s cheeks doesn’t fade. “I wouldn’t get a reaction like that, then.” The teasing light reflected in the flecks of blue in her eyes turns solemn. “Thank you, Kara. For helping me get my things.” 

 

Kara gives her a lopsided, half-bewildered smile, like she can’t believe Lena’s thanking her for such a small thing. “Of course. I wasn’t going to send you down there to get it yourself.” She glances back down, using her x-ray vision. “Do you think they’ll be back again? I don’t think it’s safe for you to be out and about if the Japanese mafia are after you.”

 

Lena slips her hand into Kara’s again, squeezing tight. “Well, it won’t matter if you’re there, will it? I can just say you’re my personal assistant.” Her eyes light up. “I’ve always thought those situations with the CEO sleeping with their personal assistant were rather unrealistic, but if you were my P.A…” 

 

The look she runs down Kara’s body  _ has  _ to be illegal. It makes Kara want to run a thousand miles and lay down in bed for hours fantasizing about it and implode with flustered heat. She must make some sort of death-noise because Lena’s expression turns to one of concern.    
  


“Kara, are you okay?” 

 

She can only nod, clearing her throat embarrassedly. “I’m — ahem, fine. You —” She breaks off, trying to gather her thoughts as they enter her room. It’s unreal, the way Lena can just derail her train of thought with just a look. She wonders if she has the same effect on Lena. “Are you a cuddler?” She locks the door, gesturing to the one bed. 

 

Lena’s face does a funny little scrunching thing. “I’m the CEO of L Corp and am on the list of Fortune 500’s top thirty to watch. You’re asking me if I’m a cuddler?” She raises herself to her full height, which still isn’t that impressive because she’s in flats. “I  _ love  _ cuddling.” 

 

Kara can’t help the bark of laughter. “You,” she declares, “are so unnecessary.” 

 

Lena grins, kicking off her shoes and digging through her suitcase. “I believe the kids call it ‘being extra’, Kara.” She pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a Harvard t-shirt. “I’m going to change.” She heads into the bathroom. “Oh!” She flashes Kara a grin, head poking out of the doorway. “I’m the big spoon, by the way.” She disappears into the bathroom before Kara can even respond. 

 

“Wha-you’re- I’m not the little spoon!” Kara protests. Lena’s voice is muffled through the door. 

 

“I can’t hear you!” 

 

Kara grumbles good-naturedly, slipping out of her own bullet-hole-riddled shirt and changing into her pajamas. The sun is already crawling above the horizon, and she sweeps the curtains across the window. The room is plunged into shadow. When Lena emerges from the bathroom, Kara’s yanking the sheets from where they’re tucked into the mattress, glasses on the bedside table. “I love you,” she breathes, clothes clutched to her chest. Her eyes are wide. “Wow. I can say that now. I love you, Kara.”

 

Kara giggles, sitting on the bed. “I love you too, Lena. Come cuddle.” 

 

Lena sighs, tucking her clothes into her suitcase before climbing into the bed. “I never thought I’d actually hear those words,” she admits, sinking into Kara’s arms. “And this is one time thing,” she warns. “I am the big spoon.” 

 

“Whatever you say, love.” 

 

A little ripple of emotion trickles down her spine. “Say that again,” she asks, feeling warm and sleepy in Kara’s strong arms. 

 

“What? Love?” 

 

“Mmhmm. I like that.” She snuggles closer, inhaling the scent of vanilla and gunpowder that hangs off of Kara. “How long?” she asks. “How long have you known?” 

 

“That I loved you?” Lena nods. Kara hums, thinking, and the vibration settles in Lena’s chest. “I...I didn’t, at first. It was just a little crush. When I first saw you at L Corp, I…” Lena glances up and catches a hint of the blush on Kara’s cheeks. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever met.” 

 

Lena grins foolishly. “I noticed. You were speechless for a good minute.” 

 

“It wasn’t a full _minute,_ ” Kara protests, smiling. “And you looked very good that day. You look good every day.” Lena can see the flush creeping into Kara’s cheeks. “And then you said that I looked like a reporter, and I…I don’t know, it’s like I decided to like you from that moment on? Even though Clark didn’t trust you and everybody kept telling me you were just like your family, I didn’t believe them. I don’t know how I knew, but I did. And you were helpful, and friendly, and —” A light huff of laughter. “ — so damn pretty.”

 

“Mmm, nice to know all my efforts are appreciated.” 

 

“Oh, definitely. When we started getting lunch together, I was delighted. I think Winn was the first one to help me really realize it was more than just admiration.” He’d asked if there was anybody new in Kara’s life, citing her sudden happiness and contagious smiles. “I mean, I’ve had crushes on girls before. But when he told me I was talking about you nonstop…” Her smile is bashful. “I’ve never really felt love before, but I had a clue that it was something like the way you made me feel. Happy, all the time, and protective.” She laughs. “Remember when that guy came up to you for an autograph? I almost put him into a headlock.” 

 

Lena smiles at the memory. “I remember that.” A nervous fan of her work had come up to them in the middle of lunch and thrust a pen and pad of paper at Lena without even saying a word. Kara had sprung out of her chair, looking ready to fight, and he’d almost wet himself. “You looked like you were about to tackle him to the ground.” 

 

“I almost did!” Her voice softens. “The real moment when I realized I loved you was when you pressed the button to launch the missile. I couldn’t understand how you could do something like that. I thought I’d lost you.” She presses a kiss to Lena’s forehead to remind herself that it’s history. Long gone. “What about you? When did you realize?” 

 

Lena yawns. “It was that day I had back-to-back meetings, do you remember? I had to cancel lunch because I had twelve meetings. It was ten pm and I snapped at Jess for interrupting my work but when I looked up…”

 

“I brought you dinner.” Kara chuckles. “Your face was priceless. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.” 

 

“I’d never had a friend like you,” Lena mumbles. “I didn’t believe you were actually there.” 

 

Kara chuckles. “You even asked me if I was there for a late article.” 

 

“And you said ‘An article on how certain CEOs need to stop skipping meals, maybe.’” 

 

“I was worried! I know you don’t eat if you don’t have time, and I flew by during lunch to check on you.”

 

Lena smiles wistfully. “I’d had a crush on you since you walked in. And when you brought my favorite wine...” A sigh. “I knew I was fucked.” 

 

“Romantic,” Kara jokes, but her smile is soft. “I guess the way to a woman’s heart is through her wine cellar.” 

 

“I don’t have a wine cellar,” Lena protests. “Not  _ yet. _ ” 

 

“I could build one for you,” Kara offers. And she’s not even kidding. It’s the first thing that comes to mind and she says it, and Lena freezes. Kara freezes, too. Did she say something wrong?

 

“I never expect it when you say things like that,” Lena murmurs, shaking her head. “It still feels kind of like a dream.” She shifts a little, so they’re facing each other. “Kiss me again?”

 

“Of course.” And as Kara leans in to meet her halfway, she thinks,  _ I could do this forever.  _

— — — 

Lena’s grumpy when they wake up, tugging the blankets over her head and grunting monosyllabic responses to Kara’s questions. Understandable; she’s gotten maybe four hours of sleep at most, coupled with near-death experiences and confessions of love. That’s definitely exhausting stuff. 

 

Kara pops downstairs to get coffee (two sugars, one cream) the way Lena likes it and breakfast for them both. When she gets back upstairs, Lena’s wrapped up in the blankets, a cocoon of cloth on the ground by the bed. “What happened?” Kara asks, startled. 

 

Lena scowls up at her, looking disillusioned with the whole world. All Kara can see is her face poking out of the blankets, nothing else. “I was going to get up,” she mutters. “Gravity said no.” 

 

“All right, let’s go, you’ve got meetings, haven’t you?” Kara sets the coffee down and Lena’s eyes widen when she spots it. 

 

“Is that coffee.”   
  


“Yeah, I— ”

 

Lena’s up in a flash, downing half the cup before Kara can even warn her that it might be hot. “Okay, let’s go,” she declares, eyes bright. 

 

Kara decides that coffee is scary. 

 

They bump elbows trying to get ready — Kara accidentally knocks into Lena while she’s putting on lipstick and leaves a Joker-esque smear of red across her cheek. Lena looks appalled for all of two seconds before dissolving into laughter, Kara following soon after. “I’m — I’m gonna use the mirror in the other room,” Kara manages between giggles as Lena tries to get it off and only smears it more. “Sorry, babe.”

 

She hears Lena’s laughter die down, but the smile’s still in her voice as she murmurs, “Babe,” to herself, quietly. 

 

“Is that okay? Calling you babe?” 

 

Lena pokes her head out of the bathroom. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Definitely. I…” Her face reddens a little. “I like it.” Her voice softens. “I like it a lot.” 

 

Kara’s grin feels like it might split her face. “Oh. That’s..that’s good, then. Babe,” she adds, just for fun, and delights in seeing the childish joy blooming across Lena’s face. An idea occurs to her and she says it, before thinking. “You can call me Daddy.” She knows what’s up with that whole thing — people seem to use it a lot in reference to Supergirl, and Lena seems like she’d know about that — so she tries it out. 

 

Lena’s face flames red and she ducks her head back into the bathroom. “Oh my god,” she declares, voice muffled. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

 

“I don’t even know what that means,” Kara pretends. “Is it bad? I saw people commenting that on pictures of Supergirl.” 

 

“It’s not... _bad_ ,” Lena allows, voice still strained. “It’s just, um. Probably not appropriate for public use.” 

 

“...I don’t get it.” Kara gets it. She knows, but oh man, watching Lena stumble around for an explanation is  _ so cute,  _ maybe even cuter than puppy videos where they try to bark and manage nothing but little squeaks. 

 

“It’s like, um, you know, when you’re attracted to somebody? And you use that word to express it? Like, calling somebody hot. Or — ohmygod Kara, it’s a sex thing.” Lena looks embarrassed and put-out and Kara can’t help it, she skips over and kisses her, real quick. 

 

“I’m just messing with you, babe.” Kara chuckles at Lena’s affronted expression. “I know what it means. I just wanted to see you try and explain it.” 

 

“I don’t like you,” Lena mumbles, but she’s smiling underneath. It’s a little smile, just hiding, but Kara can see it nonetheless. “Come here and give me a real kiss.”

 

They end up real-kissing for a bit too long and have to speed-walk to Lena’s meeting, another cup of coffee in her hand and Kara discreetly looking around for more assassins. “Will they let me in there?” Kara asks, lowering her glasses a little bit to peer over the frame. 

 

“They will. I’ve got just as much to lose in this as they do, so they know I won’t bring just any person with me.” She gives Kara a dazzling smile. “Do you want to be my bodyguard or my secretary?” She looks Kara up and down — Oxford shirt, black blazer, slim pants and a gold belt buckle — and nods. “I think bodyguard works well. What do you think?” 

 

Kara breaks into a little jog to catch up. “Um, I guess so? How about a dual bodyguard/secretary? I still have to write an article for Snapper, and I have to take notes…” 

 

Lena considers this. “Right. Of course, that fine. I also record all of these meetings, so you can have access to those files, too. Without the classified information, of course.” She acts like she gives away highly sensitive information every day, which almost fools Kara — but not quite. 

 

“Hey,” she murmurs, touching Lena on the shoulder lightly. “You don’t have to act different, Lena. I’m still me. I love you.” 

 

Lena clears her throat and looks away. “Okay,” she finally says. A bit firmer, “I know. It’s a bad habit. I forget, or don’t believe that you actually like me. For  _ me _ .” A harsh little laugh, then she sighs. “Thank you, Kara. Can you just — remind me, if I start doing that again?” 

 

Kara nods, starts to lean in for a quick kiss, remembers they’re in a public place, and has to settle for a what she hopes is the most comforting smile Lena’s ever seen. “Of course. Always.”

 

The meeting is boring. Kara actually almost falls asleep (she’s not even tired!) and it’s a  _ wonder  _ that Lena’s still conscious and functioning enough to navigate some seriously complicated negotiations that happen in a tangled mixture of Japanese and English. Kara’s a bit dizzy just from listening. She’s not trying to follow anymore — she gave up on that as soon as more than one person started talking — and is just letting the sound wash over her. Mostly she watches Lena — surreptitiously, to avoid distracting her — but not very subtly, either. Kara doesn’t really care if she’s caught. She’s the bodyguard, right? It’s her job to pay attention to the boss. 

 

Lena’s so pretty. Sometimes the light from the window will glance off her face in just the right way, like when the sunrise finally flickers the first sunbeams across a dew-decorated meadow, and Kara forgets for breathe for a little while. Or she’ll narrow her eyes, in a way that’s dangerous and threatening to the men on the other side of the table but just hot and very attractive to Kara. She has an idea that if Lena looks at her like that, she might just combust on the spot. Kara imagines fluttering little kisses down Lena’s jaw, wondering if she’d pull away to find her lips bleeding. Rao, her jawline is so sharp. And the muscles of her neck...mmm. Kara finds herself licking her lips like a starving dog (embarrassing) and has to forcibly direct her attention elsewhere.   
  


When they take a break, Lena notices her slight blush. “What’s up? You look hot.” Kara raises an eyebrow and Lena goes back over what she’s said. “I mean, like, flushed. Temperature hot,” she fixes, quickly. 

 

“Oh, so I’m not hot?” Kara teases. Sometimes Lena makes it too easy for her. 

 

“Shush,” Lena retorts, hiding her smile in her coffee cup. “You know what I mean.” 

 

“I was just looking at you,” Kara confesses lowly. “And thinking about kissing you. And touching you. But really, just kissing.” 

 

Lena opens her mouth to respond, then closes it again. She looks at the clock and gives it that look, the narrowed-eyes one that would combust Kara on the spot. “After,” she promises, looking as frustrated as Kara feels. “Promise.” 

 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

 

Lena ends up holding Kara against the wall of the bathroom in the hall instead. 

 

None of the sharply-dressed businessmen give them another look when Lena ducks into the bathroom, Kara right on her heels. None of them notice that Lena practically trips over herself to kiss Kara, the door swinging shut barely in time to hide them. 

 

“Oh,” Kara gasps against Lena’s mouth. She laughs, giddy, and her internal organs do a little swoop, heart bouncing on a trampoline of happy, Lena-fueled thoughts. “ _ Oh _ .” 

 

Lena laughs too, knowing that her lipstick is getting smeared. She presses closer, tilting up on her feet to reach (Kara’s so tall, it’s not fair because it gets Lena every time). Kara’s back hits the smooth lacquered tile with a soft thump. Strands of golden hair falling out of her elaborate hairdo. Kara kisses her back with just as much enthusiasm. She’s so warm under Lena and her hands are wandering in a lovely, if not adolescent way, and all of a sudden, Lena feels twelve again — chasing after Lex on her brand-new bicycle, both of them giggling and laughing and swerving on the driveway of the Luthor mansion. 

 

She opens her eyes and finds Kara staring at her, a bit of sacred adoration glinting in her blue eyes. “What?” she asks, smiling. 

 

“Are you okay? You got quiet.” 

 

Lena nods, unable to tame the smile on her face. “Yes. Definitely. I was just thinking about how... _ happy _ I am. It’s been…” She trails off. Kara’s hands settle on her hips, tracing nice, soothing circles there. “I don’t think I’ve felt this happy in a long time.” 

 

Kara looks at the smeared swatch of red lipstick across Lena’s mouth and understands. “Me, too,” she murmurs, chest swelling with warmth. “Me, too.” 

 

An idea occurs to Lena. “Will you go on a date with me?” she asks, the words a rush of sound from her mouth. Kara grins at her, a little bemused at the corners, confused in the middle. “For lunch.” 

 

“I’d love to.” Kara plays along, trying not to laugh at the smudges of red on Lena’s face that no doubt adorn hers as well. “Where to?” 

 

Lena beams and Kara can see the little girl inside, just about glowing with joy. “It’s a secret,” she confides, and then winks. 

 

The secret turns out to be a little noodle shop. It’s off the beaten path, and Lena leads them through a warren of side streets and alleys with oil puddles glistening on the asphalt, ducking under dripping plastic overhangs and past long rows of parked motorcycles. Kara questions it once, jokingly — “Are you sure you know where you’re going, or are you just leading me somewhere secluded so you can kill me?” — and Lena had been confident about it, grinning — “I do know where we’re going, and if I were a serial killer, would I tell you?” — and Kara had quit asking. 

 

It’s a short enough walk, just ten minutes away from the hotel, and once they settle down on creaky plastic chairs and dig into steaming bowls of noodles, Kara determines that it’s  _ definitely  _ worth the sketchy journey. “Holy crap,” she groans, chopsticks slightly askew between her fingers. “This is  _ so good. _ ” 

 

Lena wiggles her eyebrows, managing her own chopsticks deftly. “I’m glad.” She gestures to the little shop, with its dingy lighting and brightly colored menus pasted on the wall, and a soft look crosses her face. “I went with Lionel on a business trip to Kyoto, once, in high school. He took us to Tokyo just for this noodle shop. I looked it up when I learned that I had a conference here. It was just about to file for bankruptcy.” 

 

Kara looks around. It’s not the classiest of places. And the location isn’t the best, she allows. But the little shop is thriving, with orders going in and food coming out of the kitchen in a steady stream. From what she can tell, the cash register and the clean white air conditioning unit look practically new. “What happened?” 

 

Lena chews on a piece of bok choy, the tiniest hint of pride in her eyes. “I made a certain...personal investment in the shop. They’re doing quite well, as you can see.” The shop owner, a woman of nearly fifty but moving like she’s a few centuries younger, is smiling wide and laughing with her customers, her husband working the tables with an ease and familiarity that reminds Kara of an elderly man in the neighborhood who everybody waves to and has conversations with. 

 

“Do they know it’s you?” 

 

Lena shakes her head, smiling that enigmatic smile that Kara finally understands. It’s mysterious at first, if only because it’s unexpected. It’s a selfless smile, the one that separates Lena from her family and exposes the soft, gentle kindness that is at the core of her personality. “They don’t,” she murmurs. “I don’t intend on telling them. It was really more for me, in the end,” admits. “It was my last good memory of Lionel before he got sick. Keeping this place alive...it means more to me than his grave, really. Here, it feels like he’s still alive.” 

 

The upwards curve of her mouth is sad but serene. Kara falls in love, just a little bit more. “I understand that,” she murmurs. The bustle of other people enjoying their lunch hour seems to form a bubble of time around them, an empty space where they exist and nothing else. Lena meets her gaze, green meeting blue, earth and sky, and Kara’s ribs hurt with the force of affection contained within them. “I came to Earth in a pod, but I feel the closest to Krypton in the field behind the house where I grew up.” She swirls her chopsticks in the soup, watching chopped green onions and stray noodles swim in the eddies left behind. “That’s where I used to watch the stars with my family. When I miss Krypton, I just imagine myself there.” She sighs, and the wind leaves little ripples in the bowl. 

 

Lena reaches over, tangles their fingers together, and gives her a look. It’s a broad look, one that encapsulates so much emotion that it all starts to blur together, but the general gist is  _ understanding.  _ “Je t'aime,” she murmurs, and Kara’s head jerks up, surprised. 

 

“Not that I mind,” she begins, “but why French? Up the romantic factor?” She also does a quick glance around, looking for any more members of the Japanese mafia. 

 

“Well, yes,” Lena laughs, tucking a few bills under her bowl. She leans in close and Kara mirrors the action. Lena’s breath tickles her ear. “The guy who just walked by slipped something in your purse. A bug, I think, or a tracking device.” She sounds a little too excited for somebody who’s being actively hunted by trained killers. 

 

Kara doesn’t see any weapons in the crowd around them, which less reassuring than it should be. The mood shifts, slips from sentimental rom com moment to tense action movie scene. “Okay,” she murmurs. “What was he wearing?” 

 

“Um, blue suit jacket, gold Rolex watch on his right hand, white button-down, dark blue tie.” Lena wracks her memory. “He was moving pretty fast, do you see him —” 

 

“Yup, okay, here’s the deal.” Kara’s up and moving, Lena right behind her. Kara plucks the device (tracking chip, no doubt about it) and drops it into the potted plant next to their table. They’re exiting the shop now, winding through the people trickling in. “You’re going back to the hotel. I’m going to follow this guy. See if I can find who he’s reporting to, and convince them that you’re not a person of interest any more.” 

 

Lena’s laughing, quiet and incredulous. “Kara, you can’t possibly expect me to skip out on the action.” Kara shoots her a look and Lena purses her lips. “Okay….you can.” They’re almost a block behind the man in blue, and Lena has to practically jog to keep up. “This is just like the hotel, though, Kara. Let me come with you. What if they send people to the hotel again?” 

 

Kara tries to come up with a better argument. It fails. For some reason, producing logic is hard when Lena’s in danger and there are bad guys she can punch. It also doesn’t help that sending Lena back to the hotel is just a knee-jerk reaction; she really does want Lena to be with her, just so she can reassure herself that she’s okay. 

 

“Fine,” Kara relents, aware that she’s setting a bad precedent and Alex would have her cape for endangering civilians (and Lena, no less!) but also aware that she feels much more in power if Lena’s within arm’s reach, not halfway across the city. “You have your Taser?” 

 

“And Mace.” Lena taps her purse. “Girl’s best friends.” 

 

Kara doesn’t like it, doesn’t like it one bit — but what can you do when your girlfriend (her  _ girlfriend _ ) is stubborn and probably safer with you anyways? “Okay,” she mutters, reaching out for Lena’s hand. “Stick with me.” 

 

They tail the mobster to a shiny black car parked a few streets away, ducking behind a vending machine for ramen noodles to avoid being seen. “Now what?” Lena whispers, with her Taser in one hand and Kara’s hand in the other. “We can’t follow them on foot.” Kara narrows her eyes, examining the people in the car. 

 

“Hold on, do you know what the guy looks like? The big mafia boss who’s after you?” 

 

“Yeah, he’s a middle-aged man, thick black hair, tattoo on the back of his neck.” Lena fiddles with Kara’s fingers, anxious. Kara can see through brick walls and all she has to stare at is the back of her head. A very pretty head, but still. “Is he in the car?” 

 

“Stay here,” Kara orders, and then — Supergirl stands up, leaving Lena with a pile of neatly folded clothes, and strides over to the car. Lena gapes. The door of the car, light as a piece of paper, is separated from its hinges. It clatters to the ground. Lena can’t see into the dark interior of the car, but she can imagine their expressions of terror and shock very well. “Hey,” Supergirl says. “I wanna talk to you. C’mere.” 

 

A man — Ayame, the Iris Flower, the man after Lena — is removed from the car by his tie. He flails in the air, eyes blown wide and chest heaving. Supergirl heaves him up onto the roof of the car, a little bit like how one sets down tiresome groceries after carrying them up six flights of stairs. 

 

(Lena can see the muscles of Kara’s arms flexing under the tight material of her suit and damn this is  _ not  _ the time nor place but she is  _ so hot) _

 

“Why are you after Lena Luthor?” Supergirl asks, scowling, and the man seems to grow a little bit of spine. 

 

“ _ Her brother is a”  _ — here, Kara doesn’t know the word, but it’s definitely not “gentleman” — “ _ and somebody needs to pay for his crimes. _ ” He spits, narrowly missing Kara’s boots. 

 

There’s a fury in Kara’s glare that Lena’s never seen before. Her words fly like bullets. “Why don’t you actually focus your attention on somebody who deserves it? Lena’s actually  _ trying  _ to do good. She’s nothing like her brother! If you actually cared about exacting revenge, you’d go after the people who helped Lex, not his sister. She’s doing the exact  _ opposite  _ of what Lex did.” Her fingers leave dents in the roof of the car. “You’re going to leave her alone.” Her voice booms like quiet thunder. “ _ Understood?” _

 

Ayame puts up a valiant effort to regain his courage, struggling to sit up. The doorframe crunches in Kara’ fist — and he crumples.  _ “Very well.”  _ He grimaces at the sight of the mangled metal. _ “You have my word.”  _

 

The car screeches off as soon as the mafia boss scrambles back inside and Kara forces the door back into the warped frame. The tires leave black streaks on the asphalt. Lena unfolds herself from behind the vending machine, blood rushing back into her legs and making her wince. Kara watches the car until it’s out of sight. 

 

“Did you know that you’re really hot when you’re threatening people?” Lena tells her, offering up the bundle of clothes. There’s a brief whoosh, and then Kara Danvers is standing in front of her again, glasses askew. She gives Lena a grin that lingers in one corner of her mouth, and pushes her glasses up. 

 

“Mm, I do now. Are you okay?” 

 

Lena stares at her. “I’m...I’m more than okay, Kara. You just went and shook down a Yakuza boss to protect me. I’m…” She chuckles, shaking her head. “I’m a little delighted, actually. I know I should be shocked, or something, but this is really exciting. It’s a bit like a fantasy of mine, actually.” 

 

Kara feels her eyebrows creeping up. “Why are you acting...weird?” 

 

Lena looks at Kara — a little clueless, a lot adorable — and sighs, smiling. “Because you just saved, me, Kara Danvers,” she murmurs, drawing closer so she can loop her arms around Kara’s waist. “And you went on a monologue while doing it and I love you. So much.” She finishes her explanation with a quick kiss, leaning up on her toes to reach Kara. 

 

“Oh.” Kara grins dopily, arms resting on Lena’s shoulders. “Well. It’s a good thing I love you even more, then.” 

 

“Kara we are  _ not  _ turning this into a competition,” Lena warns. She has an inkling that Kara will eagerly take this into the next level and become one of those terribly cheesy romantic people that Lena secretly envies. And if Kara does — if they become the “no, you hang up first” sort of couple — Lena’s never going to get her reputation back because she loves it, deep down inside. “Love is not a competition.”

 

Kara acquiesces, only slightly reluctant to let it go. “Okay, then can we go back to the part about how this is a fantasy of yours? Care to elaborate?” 

 

Lena considers it. “I still have two more meetings to get through,” she says, slowly. “How about I tell you after those are done?”

 

“Ugh, Lena, you’re killing me,” Kara groans, letting her head fall forward to bump their foreheads together. “I can’t wait that long. Give me a little hint, at least?” 

 

“Mmm...nope. Think of it as a reward, to get you through it.” Lena’s eyes glimmer with mischief. “Why do you think I always scheduled our dinners together at the end of long days at the office?” 

 

Kara blinks. “Wait, you mean — like, you used that to get you through the day?” 

 

Lena nods, biting her lip. “Mmmhmm.” 

 

“That’s so  _ sweet _ ,” Kara gushes. They’re swaying a bit now in the middle of the alleyway, like they’re slow dancing to unheard music, not wanting to let go of each other. “I never knew that.” 

 

Lena hums, sly smile slinking across her lips. She can’t resist, goddammit! “It’s because I love you the most, obviously.” 

 

Kara scoffs, blue eyes wide with disbelief. “Okay, who said love wasn’t a competition?” 

 

Lena shrugs, avoiding Kara’s gaze scrupulously. “I don’t know, was it you?” 

 

“I can’t believe you, Lena Luthor.” 

 

“You better believe it, Ms. Danvers, because Luthors  _ never  _ lose at anything.” Is she going to regret this? Possibly. But she feels like she’s tearing at the seams trying to keep herself from crying with happiness already, so she might as well go all the way. Go big or go home, right? 

 

Kara narrows her eyes, and Lena shivers. “Oh, it’s  _ on. _ ” 

— — — 

If Aggressive Door-Holding is a sport, then they are  _ champions  _ at it. Lena opens the first one into the hotel with an exaggerated bow and then Kara does the same for the second. They actually race — shoulders jostling, breathless giggles escaping — to open the door to the conference room. Kara wins that one, but Lena accuses her of super-cheating. Which, of course, distracts her enough to let Lena open the next one. 

 

Kara pulls out the chair for Lena, the CEO whispering in her ear as she does so. “I don’t know when we decided intense politeness was a measure of love,” Lena mutters, “but I adore it.” 

 

“I adore  _ you, _ ” Kara shoots back, with a hilariously professional, neutral expression on her face, and then the businessmen arrive and Lena doesn’t get a chance to respond. 

  
  


Of course, the rules change once they’re deep into Meeting Territory. Lena glances over a lot— it’s not  _ that  _ noticeable, but Kara’s her object of attention, so to her, it’s like Kill Bill sirens — and finally, Kara catches her eye and sticks her tongue out. 

 

Lena manages to contain her snort of laughter (barely) and jerks her attention back to the guy who’s talking. “Quit that,” she mumbles under her breath. “Or I won’t tell you about the fantasy.” 

 

Ooo, low blow. Kara decides to up the stakes. 

 

It’s a brief break between meetings as different investors and department heads are switched out when she makes her move. Lena’s poring over her notes for the fiftieth time, and Kara sidles over, perfectly innocuous. She’s the picture of innocence. 

 

“Want to hear about  _ my _ fantasy?” she asks, just loud enough for Lena to hear. 

 

The sheet of paper in Lena’s hand scrunches up like an accordion. “I would  _ love  _ to,” she murmurs, somehow managing to look put-together despite the sudden uptick in her heart rate. 

 

“Well,” Kara begins. “It’s in your office, during lunch.” A flicker of disapproval across her brow. “You’re always so stressed during lunch, I hate it when you’re stressed.” The sly smile returns again. “You, of course, need stress relief.”

 

“Of course I do,” Lena drawls, acting unaffected and knowing Kara can tell that she’s feeling quite the opposite. “Do you offer me a stress ball?” 

 

“Mmm, not quite. I sit on your chair — very nice, ergonomic — and then you sit on my lap.” Kara’s hand rests on Lena’s wrist, stroking the soft skin where her pulse flutters like an trapped bird. “And you tell me exactly what you want me to do to you…” A single finger traces a meandering line up Lena’s forearm, raising a shiver of goosebumps after it. Kara looks up. “Oh, the meeting’s about to start.” 

 

Kara's devilish grin is going to be the  _ death  _ of her. “I’ll tell you the rest later,” Kara apologizes, not at all sincere. 

 

“You are the worst,” Lena grumbles. Kara beams and taps her on the wrist. 

 

“Love you, too.” 

— — — 

They eat dinner at an upscale restaurant with a view of the golden sunset gilding the Tokyo skyline that’s well worth the money. Kara regales Lena with only-slightly exaggerated tales of her first few times fighting crime and the embarrassing mistakes she’d made (Kara: “how was I supposed to know how the legal system worked? They don’t teach that in school” Lena: “um, yes, they do.” Kara: “well, I can’t believe they expected me to  _ listen _ ”). Lena tells Kara about the time she accidentally fired Jess (a paperwork mistake; Jess still harbors a little salt about it) and the time a R&D department had blown up the lab and been terrified of her retribution (“it was an  _ exciting  _ breakthrough, explosions are always fun, but the department head handed me a resignation letter when I walked in and I didn’t understand at  _ all _ ”). 

 

By the time the other patrons are starting to leave, though, Lena’s grown quiet. There’s something brewing on her mind that’s deeper than her younger self’s mistakes and the foreboding shadow of her reputation. Kara waits, letting her dissect her dessert into its base form before gently testing the waters. 

 

“Are you going to reconstruct that, later?” She jabs her fork at Lena’s plate — chocolate frosting in a corner, a strawberry in another, the cake in the center and the sprig of mint in another corner. 

 

Lena’s mouth twists curiously and she sets her fork down. “Can I be candid with you?” 

 

“Of course. Yes. Always.” 

 

A beat. “I’m scared.” Lena admits this to the setting sun, the rouge beams of light flickering across the darkening sky, the words bouncing off the glass window dully. “I want to give you everything.” The words rush out, faster and faster, the dam broken. “And it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I — I don’t trust  _ anybody _ , really, because that’s what I’m used to, but I’m trying. Does that make sense?” A shaky breath. “I don’t want it to take forever for us to be comfortable around each other, but that’s what I’m used to. I want — everything, I don’t want to hold anything back because I love you so much and I don’t want to lose this chance.” She laughs, blinking away bits of moisture. “I guess...god, people usually say I’m concise, this is a mess — I guess I’m asking for you to be patient with me? And to not hold anything back. All or nothing.” 

 

Kara reaches out, clasps Lena’s hands in her own. They’re limp and pale, like scared doves unsure of their freedom or ability to fly. 

 

“When I said I love you,” Kara says, measuredly, “I meant it. I’m not going to give you everything, Lena, because I’m pretty sure you already  _ have  _ all of me. I don’t think there’s anything I have  _ left  _ to hold back.” Their eyes meet. “I’ll wait forever for you, if I need to. As long as you’re  _ trying —  _ as long as we’re both trying, we can figure things out.” She tries a smile on for size and it feels just soft and gentle enough. “Yeah?” Lena takes a quavering breath. 

 

“Yeah,” she says, voice scratches. “I can do that.” 

 

“Then I think,” Kara murmurs, looking like she’s found the secret to the universe (and maybe she has), “we’re going to be just fine.” 

 

 

 

 

— — —

 

 

 

 

 

_ Back in National City.  _

 

Jess is shuffling papers into order, trying to remember what else she needs to do when she gets home (lordy, her job is hard enough when Lena’s here; with her gone, it’s like the universe decided to take a shit on her) when her phone dings. She pauses. That’s not a ringtone she hears often, or at all. 

 

It’s from the text she sent a couple days ago, unanswered and unread. 

 

_ [Jessica]: Kara Danvers was asking about you today. Is everything all right?  _

 

There’s an answer, now. 

 

_ [The Boss]: Thank you, Jess.  _

_ [The Boss]: Everything is just right.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that's that. Will I continue this?? who knows! Depends on how good Katie McGrath looks at the moment, so probably. 
> 
> Comments, criticisms, the entire script of Carol, dir. Todd Haynes. 2015, I accept all of it. Gladly.
> 
> follow me @feveredreams.tumblr.com for even more gays.


End file.
